


steel and stone

by willowcabins



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Drift Side Effects, F/F, Kicking Kaiju Ass, Post-Drift, The Drift (Pacific Rim), weird thought violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My name is Root and I'm going to be your new jaeger co-pilot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Root/Shaw Pacific Rim AU for Shoot Week

 

“I want a new partner.” She is standing in Stacker Pentecost’s officer, having shouldered her way in, and is standing tall. The man slowly puts down his file and looks at her.

“Cole died yesterday,” he points out with clinical neutrality.

“And I didn’t die. So give me a new partner, and let me get into that jaeger again.”

“Shaw, we normally give you at least a week to recover. It is invasive and alien to have someone else in your head, after having shared it with Cole for so long.”

“My head’s fine. The world isn’t, though.”

“I’m sure Reese’s and Carter’s teams can keep the pacific ocean save for a week, at least.”

“You and I both know that that’s an incredibly risky situation.”

“Must I remind you, Ms. Shaw, that I am your commanding officer, and you will do as your told.” There is steel in his voice, and Shaw resists the urge to flinch. She hangs her head, patiently mollified, though she makes no move to leave.

“You’re dismissed, soldier,” Pentecost says. Shaw just squares her shoulders.

“Let me _do_ something,” she snarls.

“You could always help Finch train his new scientific protégée,” Pentecost offers with no humour in his voice. Shaw clenches her jaw, but doesn’t move. He sighs.

“Sir,” she repeats, almost as a plea. Pentecost sighs again and gets up to look at Shaw.

“I know you’re different, Shaw. I read your file. Of course I know you’re different. You’re one of the best pilots we have, and I don’t want to risk that. So although you _feel_ like you don’t need time, believe me. You do. Go, run some exercises with Fusco.”

“Fusco?” Although Shaw supresses the snarl, she can’t supress the incredulous disdain.

“Sergeant Fusco is the best training officer we have,” Pentecost warns Shaw. Shaw nods curtly.

“Go help him with the recruits, and I will review your case file at the end of the week.”

“Yes sir,” and with that, Shaw steps out of his office. She jogs down the metal hallways, measuring the rhythmic thump of her feet ringing against the metallic walls.

“I feel like we’re in some sort of bunker,” Cole had complained, just last week. “They can at least clean some of the rust off here…” It was ridiculous. Cole had wanted cleaning crews while they were fighting the apocalypse.

The path from Pentecost’s office to the training grounds requires Shaw to walk along the plank above all the jaegers. She looks down, and flinches. Catalyst Indigo, the jaeger she had shared with Cole for nearly a year, is a heap of scarps in the corner. Even from up here, Shaw can see the excellent claw marks that the Kaiju left on the cockpit. That disgusting, slimy being _ripped_ Cole out of the cockpit with its sharp teeth; he was still connected when the searing pain of teeth in sinews and muscles made him black out.

But that is not something Shaw allows herself to think about. Her eyes slide to the other jaegers. There’s Stungun, the silver metallic jaeger with pink flames up its arms. Its piloted by the academy’s number one super star Joss Carter and that young woman who used to work in administration and didn’t have an ounce of military training beyond base camp, Zoe Morgan. Shaw remembers the day that Carter was going to choose her drift partner; she had jealously watched as more than 100 recruits stood in the hall, patiently waiting for their opportunity to spar with Carter. Everyone was flattered to have gotten even this far; Carter was everyone’s dream partner.

Six hours later, Carter had dropped her Bo staff and spun around.

“There was a brunette yesterday,” she had told Stacker Pentecost. Pentecost has gestured towards half the room, filled with well-toned young women with brown hair at varying lengths. “She is not here.” Carter amended. “We met when I arrived.”

“The woman who welcomed you?” Pentecost asked, confused. Carter had nodded. “That’s one of your administrative assistance, Carter.”

“Bring her down here immediately.”

“Carter!”

“She and I are compatible, and I would like to prove it to you.”

“But –”

“Let me show it to you General.”

And so now Sergeant Joss Carter, academy hero and women who had single handedly killed the most kaijus while in the air force, was drift partners with Private Zoe Morgan. People knew not to comment; Zoe Morgan had a mean right hook and an even better deadly smile.

The other jaeger, Oyster Bay, is the newest one. Piloted by John Reese, one of the leading officers before the war who disappeared for five years due to unknown (but fiercely personal) reasons. He was brought back by quiet Kaiju scientist Harold. Over the last year, Shaw has become close with Reese; he is quiet and almost always at Harold’s side, and a wonderful sparring partner. Unlike his drift partner, Fusco. Many people have speculated how the best could be teamed up with someone like Fusco, but Reese never explains. Many people have suggested theories, but Shaw doesn’t guess. It’s none of her business anyway.

Right at the other end of the hall, there is a half built jaeger. There is a line of engineers surrounding it, and from up here they look like ants. Shaw doesn’t pause to watch; she knows a million recruits will be tested for that jaeger. She does not think she’ll get in it. She had her chance. Catalyst Indigo was her chance. And now she is doomed to train recruits.

She sighs, angry and frustrated. There is a nagging sensation of absence, because normally Cole would be next to her, and he would be listing all the reasons why her pessimism, although justified, would be useless.

Shaw grits her teeth and shoulder through the door. “The program has a purpose for me,” she promises herself, before walking back into metallic corridors and searching for the sparring room. It’s been ages since she held a bo staff, and she will need to get back into practice.

 

 “Must I remind you that I am your superior officers, Ms. Groves?”

“Harold! We’re scientists!”

“Scientists at a military base, which makes us subject to military ranks.”

“I never did think you were such a stickler for rules.”

“I just want to find the answer, Ms Groves.”

“ _The_ answer? Do you believe there is a singular scienfitfic truth we can crack in order to end this war?”

“This is not a war.”

“Not a war?” She arches an eyebrow.

“This is an attack, and we need to stop it.”

“We?” She sighs and plays with the scalpel in her hands. “I thought we could leave that one up to the boys in machines.”

“The _soldiers_ in jaegers can only do so much. It is up to us to determine _why_ the kaijus keep on attacking.”

“Why do you believe we _can_ find an answer?” She asks, curious. Her hair falls to the left when she tilts her head. Finch offers her a rubber band.

“Please tie up your hair, Ms. Groves,” he says, avoiding an answer. She sighs, and ties up her hair. “I would like to dissect this Kaiju heart now,” he says seriously. She sighs, dramatically.

“I don’t see how that’s going to help,” she mutters.

“Harold knows what he’s doing,” John Reese promises. He’s appeared at the door. Root sighs, and looks up at the ceiling in exasperation.

“Your pet is here,” she tells Harold, needlessly. He knows, and smiles at John. Next to him, Bear has perked up his ears.

“I’m going to leave you two,” Root decides, getting up. Harold raises an eyebrow.

“Are you sure, Ms. Groves?” He asks, serious surprise spelled out on his face. Root rolls her eyes.

“I’m a mathematician, not a biologist, Harold. The sight of carved up Kaiju organs does not inspire inspiration so much as disgust,” she explains, crisply, before leaving. Reese just shrugs at her retreating figure before sitting down next to Bear. Harold begins dissecting the heart with quiet and studious interest.

 

“What are you doing to the jaeger.” It’s less of a question and more of a demand. Daizo jumps and curses in mandarin. Root grins and him and tightens her ponytail as he wordlessly hands her the designs.

“Don’t you have a scientist to appease?” Daniel Casey asks at Root’s elbow. She scoffs.

“My scientist has his own guard dog. I can barely believe he is the same man who built the operating system. He’s only interested in kaijus these days. Also, why are you adding more metal armour here?” She asks, jamming at the juncture where a humanoid figure would have their elbow.

“Jason had some crazy idea about a flexible aluminum alloy that he thinks will protect the join while not jeopardizing the flexibility,” Daniel explains. He gestures upwards. Root looks up and smiles; hanging off the arm of the jaeger, Jason is having a heated argument with one of the builders.

“Do you think you’ll have Her done by the end of the week?” Root asks. Daizo makes a face and shakes his head.

“More like two weeks,” Daniel agrees.

“But,” Daizo says in mandarin, handing Root another tablet, “we have her core systems running.” Root grins. The skeleton of her jaeger is prepared.

“Lift me up into the cockpit,” she commands.

“It’s not ready,” Daniel protests. “We have the barest of electrical wiring there, but not enough to connect you or anything.”

“Lift me and Daizo up there,” Root repeats her command. Daniel nods and follows her order mutely.

Jason’s lift is lowered so that Root can use it. He opens the gate to let her and Daizo in before he excitedly tells her about his minor adjustments to the electrical functions of this jaeger. “Also, I replaced the usual 10kt gyro-stabilizers in the knees with something a little more powerful. The hydraulic shock-redistributors now allow for smooth bipedal motion and stabilize the aggressor feud _and_ run much more eurgomatically,” Jason explains to Root excitedly. She grins.

“Have you stabilized the 12IX Nuclear vortex turbine?” She asks, gesturing towards it as they go pass it.

“Oh yeah,” he chimes enthusiastically. “I replaced it with a nuclear vortex turbine of my own design. The 12IX has got several severe disadvantages that Daizo and I aimed to fix in my 12UX. Daizo totally restructured the reactor core internals, which, coupled with my far more efficient design means this machine will run at almost three times the capacity of Indigo Catalyst.”

“You never fail to impress me,” she chirps. Jason blushes and Daizo nearly jumps with joy. The lift reaches the cockpit. Root does not look down; she just takes the three foot leap into the cockpit and then offers Diazo her hand so he can follow. He’s scared of heights, and she doesn’t want to inconvenience him. He grins, and accepts her hand, leaping over the gap and then looking around the cockpit. It’s a small chamber, with wires hanging from the ceiling and the metal floor is riddled with holes into which to plug different technical aspects crucial for connection the pilots. But right now, it’s empty of all equipment.

“Someday, two people are going to control this thing,” Daizo comments in Mandarin with the reverence of a true disciple. Root runs a hand through the hanging wires, grinning as they spark slightly.

“Someday, _I’m_ going to control this thing,” Root corrects him. He nods.

“You are.” He agrees. “And you will be the best.” Root grins.

“You think too highly of me, Daizo.”

“You are so smart, it is impossible not to,” he tells her shyly. She grins again and sits down in the middle of the threadbare chamber and connects her tablet to one of the cables hanging from the ceiling.

“Let’s go calibrate this thing,” she says in English, excitement palbale. The screen of the tablet goes black, and then shows a blinking white cursor.

“Name.” The screen demands. Root grins.

“The Machine,” she types with elegant accuracy.

And then Root starts to Code. Daizo watches her patiently for at least an hour; he loves how effortlessly she types in commands, switching between script language with the appearant ease of an individual who seems to have grown up around them. Then, when she has established a base operating system for _him_ to work with, Daizo begins plugging himself into the different ports, calibrating them to do the correct commands. Root doesn’t need to tell him what to do; he knows what to do, almost as instinctively as she does. Machine seems to slowly react underneath them.

“She likes us,” Root comments affectionately. Daizo nods. She does; she is, after all, created with Root’s hands.

“Do you still want to bring Mr. Finch into this?” he asks about three hours later. Root looks up and blinks. Her eyes are sore, and her fingers hurt from typing for too long. But as she looks up from her system and she realises the lights are on in the cockpit, she can’t help but grin.

“Of course I want Harold here. He created base for this operating system.”

“He did what?” Daizo looks up surprise. Root smiles indulgently, getting up to stretch her legs.

“Every single jaeger ever created runs on a variant of Harold’s operating system. He built the whole mainframe through which pilots drift and communicate with the pilots.”

“I did not know that,” Daizo admits.

“Few people do,” Root agrees with a shrug. “He is a private man.”

“What are you doing, then?” Daizo asks, gesturing at the tablet and the programming.

“I’m updating the operating system. Harold broke it when he created it, but I’m setting it free.”

“What does that mean?” Daizo asks, slightly uncertain. Root’s brow furrows.

“Was my mandarin bad?” She asks, switching to English. Daizo shakes his head.

“I just don’t understand,” he admits, still in mandarin. Root’s face brightens again.

“That’s okay,” she promises him. “I’m nearly done anyway.”

 

The mess hall is full. Plates clatter loudly as the line to get food doubles. Its dinner time. Shaw grins, pulls rank and gets to the front of the line. “Jaeger pilot,” she explains to a bunch of recruits who are scowling at her.

“Ex-jaeger pilot,” one of the mouthier ones snarls.

“More than you’ll ever be,” Shaw just replies, taking her try and going to join the other pilots. Carter and Zoe are sitting next to each other, and Fusco is sitting opposite Zoe. Shaw slides into the seat opposite Carter, nodding at Fusco. Carter grins at her as she sits down. “I saw you training today,” she comments, “you really do have an amazing left hook.” Shaw grins and nods in acknowledgement.

“I would love to sparr with you if you have a free moment,” she replies, trying to make it offhand and casual.

“Joss has been waiting for you to say that all day,” Zoe says, leaning over Carter to grin at Shaw. Carter pushes her back into her own seat.

“It’s Carter to you,” she snaps at Zoe, though there is an affectionate smile pulling at her lips. Fusco rolls his eyes.

“Always one for formality,” he huffs, trying to elbow Shaw in the hip to share a smile with her. She grabs his elbow before he can.

“No,” she cautions. Fusco huffs, louder this time.

“You’re all just a bunch of weirdos,” he claims.

“Cutting remark,” Reese comments dryly, placing a tray next to Shaw, and then leaning over and placing the other tray next to Carter. He walks around the table to sit down next to Carter, leaving Finch to maneuver himself on the bench. Shaw grins and leans over to pat Bear.

“How _are_ you?” She whispers to the dog while around her Fusco and Reese begin bickering. Finch watches her fawn over the dog suspiciously.

“Can you please stop feeding him _scraps_ ,” he protests testily as Shaw grabs the drum stick of chicken from her plate and offers it to Bear. Shaw ignores him and grins as Bear snaps at the food.

“He loves it,” she replies flippantly.

“His digestive system would be inclined to disagree,” Finch mutters, turning towards his own food. Shaw rolls her eyes and turns back to her own food too.

“Where’s your psychotic side kick?” Zoe asks Finch, grinning as she bites into her drumstick. Finch stiffens.

“She is neither psychotic, nor my side kick,” Finch corrects icily. “And Ms. Groves is allowed to spend her time however she pleases.”

“I saw her by the jaeger’s this afternoon,” Carter supplies. Finch’s eyes narrow.

“The jaegers?” He asks, carefully neutral.

“Yeah, she was working with Team Nerd.”

“Team Nerd?” Finch asks, looking between Carter and Reese in confusion.

“You know, the engineering guys hired for the new jaeger. Jason Greenfield, Daniel Casey and some Asian kid,” Fusco supplies.

“His name is Daizo,” Zoe interjects with a disproving glare. Fusco waves it off.

“Sure,” he says, “that guy. Anyway, your little cocco puffs was hanging with them all day. I’m pretty sure just from glancing at them, all three of them are in love with her.”

“Undoubtable,” Finch mutters in reply, clearly troubled by this. But Shaw doesn’t really care; she uses Finch’s distraction to smuggle some more meat under the table for Bear.

After dinner, as Shaw makes a move to leave for her bunk, Reese grabs her arm. “How are you, you know, feeling?” He asks, somewhat stiffly.

“Are you checking in my _feelings_?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Reese’s frown deepens.

“I know what it feels like to lose someone,” he murmurs quietly. Shaw yanks her arm loose.

“Not like I do,” she snaps, and leaves for her bunk.

 

It takes two weeks for the jaeger to be completed, much like Jason promised. Root looks up at it, grinning. It’s wonderful and large.

"We will begin testing recruits tomorrow," Pentecost tells the group of engineers.

"Can I be in the pool of recruits?" Root asks, breathless. Stacker Pentecost does a double take.

"Ms. Groves?" He asks, cautiously. "Samantha Groves?"

"You're a scientist."

"But I built this thing. I was in charge of the blueprints and the programming."

"Something that Mr Finch is very unhappy about, I'm sure you know."

"Harold knows I had to do what I had to do."

"Well, Ms Groves, for the moment you will not be on the list. After several psychiatric appraisals, we have decided to put Sameen Shaw in the pilot's seat. So she will be testing recruits for compatibility."

"Can I be tested?" Pentecost lowers his clipboard and smiled cliply.

"No." He says simply and walks away.

Daizo puts a hand on Root's arm.

"I'm sorry," he says in strongly accented English. Root shoulders off his arm and smiles at him weakly.

"It's okay," she promises him. "i'll make this right." To give Daizo credit, he does not doubt her for one second.

 

Shaw is restless and annoyed. Having spent the last two weeks almost exclusively with Fusco, she's come to respect the rotund man for his command over most of the weapons, but more than anything his loyalty. His respect and adoration for Reese, which he masks with irritable nicknames and long suffering sighs is one of the reasons they actually make good partners. Though Shaw shares the envious looks they both throw Zoe. She knows that both she and Reese would sacrifice at least one, if not two, limbs to share a head with Carter.

Shaw stretches before bed; she's had a fun day with her final work out. She leans forward, laying the backs of her hand flat across the metal floor and stretching her hamstrings. She fought all four of the remaining jaeger pilots with bo staffs today to get her into practice again. Carter and Zoe both beat her, where she beat John and Fusco. She then proceeded to do best out of three, and then best out of seven with Carter, narrowly losing to her both times. Although her body was bruised, and she was sure she would be stiff tomorrow, there was something about the thrill of fighting against Carter as Zoe and Reese laughed and Fusco tried to shout encouragement at her.

Sometimes Shaw forgot the community of jaeger pilots and its importance to her.

She couldn't help but smile as she finished her stretches, locked the door went to bed. She went to bed early. She would need all her energy for tomorrow.

 

Shaw flickers awake. Something is different in her bunk. She sat up, suddenly alert.

"Good morning." The dim light pouring through the keyhole was reflects in two bright eyes. Shaw snapps on her bedside light. A young brunette, slight, though taller than Shaw, was leaning against her door.

"Who are you?" Shaw demands. The young woman grins.

"I'm going to be your new jaeger co-pilot."

"What?"

"My name is Root, and I'm going to fight you."

"Wait, aren't you that science girl?"

"You and I both know that there is not a single recruit in the masses who is up to your standards. Let me show you what I can do. I managed to sneak into your bunk, didn't i?" She opens the door and steps out. Shaw stumbles up and stares at her as she begins to walk away. Seventeen paces down the hallway and she turns around, predatory smile on your face.

"You are curious," she points out, her voice softly snaking down the hallway.

"Why are you doing this?" Shaw demands again in a stage whisper.

"I am the most compatible partner you will find, and I want to prove it to you." Shaw sighs. She tilts her head. She wants to resist this. She clenches her jaw. She roles her eyes. And she goes back to bed.

 

Root sighs.

"As predicted, it didn't work," the text on her phone claims. Root sighs and rolls her eyes, tucking away her phone.

"I'll just have to wait another day," she says, exasperated. The phone buzzes. Root checks it.

"As predicted," the machine replies. Root makes a face.

"I'm going to bed." She tells the machine.

"Good morning," the phone replies, and then stills.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prisons, fights and kaijus

CHAPTER 2

There is a gentle knock against the metal door of Root’s cell. “Ms. Groves,” Finch calls politely. Root blinks awake, and then rolls over, rolling out of her bed and landing in a crouching position deftly. She stands up, stretches, and checks the time. Right after noon. She opens the door, head tilted; she is already dressed, having slept in her clothing. Harold steps back in startled surprise, and Bear instinctively shifts to protect Finch, but Root holds up her hands almost immediately, indicating surrender. Finch visibly relaxes and steps forward, pushing Bear back.

“For the third day in a row, you have not reported to me,” Harold points out clip. Root fixes Harold with an unnerving gaze, and smiles slowly.

“I was busy, Harold,” she explains.

“You are meant to be busy working on a project with _me_ ,” he replies, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Well, I did just finish another project. So okay, I can start,” she says casually, grabbing her tablet from her desk and locking the door behind her. Harold steps back, blinking in surprise. He rearranges his glasses.

“What project did you just finish?” He asks, non-plussed as they begin walking back towards the sciences division. Root looks at him sideways and grins slyly.

“The jaeger,” she says happily. Harold stops in his path.

“What?” he asks, quietly. Root has walked on. She turns around, a couple of steps ahead of him. “Why would you be working on that? We hired a group of highly trained engineers.” Root steps forward again, head shaking sympathetically.

“Oh Harold, I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced.” She holds out a hand. “They call me Root.” Harold’s eyes widen. He _knows_ Root; Root was a notable hacker five years ago, who infected a set of jaegers in San Francisco. Harold was _hired_ because he could eradicate the bad code in the machines and keep them functioning. Even before the first Kaiju, there had been whispers of a young hacker whose command of programming and computer science was probably only on par with him.

She is younger than he imagined.

And she is here. She had unlimited, unfettered access to his machines. Harold gulps, ignoring her hand. “Root?” He asks, incredulous. “Why?” He asks quietly, almost desperately. Root tilts her head.

“My mother _told_ me to follow my talents, and computers is all I am good at, so here I am.” She chuckles. “Well, computers and hurting things. Thank God the jaeger combines both!”

With that, she walks towards his lab. Harold’s hand start shaking. Bear barks, confused. Harold shakes his head, and limps to the nearest mounted phone.

“Hello, I need Stacker Pentecost. Immediately.”

 

Twelve minutes later, Harold is sitting in the General’s office. Stacker Pentecost is sitting stiffy, back straight. His arms are leaning on the desk and his hands are clasped solemnly. He nods at Harold, granting Harold permission to speak.

“My intern, Ms. Groves, has an alias.” Pentecost’s gaze doesn’t waver. “She likes to be called Root. As in the young hacker who nearly put nine jaegers out of commission in San Francisco five years ago.”

“And you believe her?”

“Yes. I felt like she was holding back, before; it turns out she was reluctant to show me the full scope of her intelligence, because I would recognise her.”

“Recognise her?”

“Like every skilled and distinguished hacker, she has a signature style.”

“How do we suggest we move forward?”

“Arrest her! Immediately!” Stacker Pentecost nods and leans forward, activating his intercom. He immediately relays his order to several sergeants, and then leans back.

“Consider it done, Mr. Finch. How do we proceed now?”

“She worked on a jaeger.” Pentecost bristles.

“The new one?”

“Yes. I talked to my team on the floor, they say it is now named The Machine.”

“How did Ms. Groves gain access to it?”

“All three engineers we hired were planted, by her. They are all her accomplices.”

“Should we arrest them too?”

“It would do no good. They did their job. They are done. They left base three days ago.”

“The jaeger is fully operational?”

“It seems so. More than fully operational; Mr. Greenburg and Mr. Casey’s engineering is really outstanding and they have improved some of the more awkward glitches in an average Mark II Jaeger. Mr. Daizo seems to have handled the computer programming, though I am sure Root aided with that. My own expert, Mr. Tao, and I will be running a full diagnostic of the machine and will get back to you.”

“Do you think she could have caused more trouble here than in San Francisco?” Pentecost asks earnestly. Harold swallows.

“Physical access would mean she has a much greater scope for damage, but I honestly do not see her endgame here. Perhaps closer inspection of the jaeger will allow me some insight.”

“By all means, Doctor.”

 

Shaw sighs, annoyed. She has fought with over half the recruits now and has not found a single person who is even worth a second bout. Zoe marks the beginning of the next match; now Shaw is facing a young woman with dark hair that is arranged in two braids. The young woman tilts her head and smiles. Shaw sighs, and lunges forward, feigning high right with her bo staff, only to deliver a quick light blow on the young woman's ribs on her left side. Zoe lifts her hand, indicating one point to Shaw. She wins the next two with almost equal ease. Reese is watching her with a smirk as she bows her opponent off with a dark glare.

"Pause," Zoe instructs. "Shaw needs to rest and eat." She glances at the twelve recruits left. "You can come back in an hour and a half. Dismissed." They all salute her, and then scamper off. Zoe looks from her clip board to Shaw and shakes her head. "This looks _awful_ ," she admits.

"Not a single person out there can match your speed," Carter agrees.

"Other than you and John," Shaw points out with a smirk, grabbing her water bottle. Carter rolls her eyes.

"I'm faster than you, and John is far too stubborn." John nods slowly.

"There are at least three that gave you a fair fight though," John admits. Carter frowns.

"Shaw doesn't need a fair fight. Shaw needs someone to push her."

"I feel like with a little more training, at least the third one could have given you that." Fusco agrees.

"The third one?" Shaw asks, grabbing one of the protein bars from her bag. The wrapper crinkles open loudly as Zoe inspects her chart.

"Her name was Kara." She tells them. Carter nods.

"Yeah, I know her from training,” Fusco agrees casually. “She 's good. And quick."

"But too untrained." Shaw points out, taking a long swig from her water bottle. Carter laughs quietly and shakes her head.

"See, that's your problem, Shaw," Carter points out. "You are _trained_. You have fought in an actual jaeger before. All of these kids are far too green for you. You need someone who knows the jaeger like you do."

"Even though I'll be getting a new jaeger?" Shaw asks, beginning her warm-down stretches.

"Even your new jaeger will have traces of Indigo Catalyst in it."

"All jaegers have some similar features,” John agrees. "Their operating systems, for example."

"They are all designed by me," Finch adds, standing at the door. Shaw turns and nods at Harold.

"How is science?" She asks politely. Finch frowns.

"Troubling. How goes your search for a partner?"

"Worse," Zoe assures him. Finch sighs.

"That's probably for the best right now, anyway." He murmurs. Shaw eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Why?" She demands.

"The jaeger you will be riding has been compromised."

"Compromised?"

"Yes, Ms. Shaw."

"We're a secure military establishment. How can any of our equipment be compromised?" Carter demands. Finch’s lips thin, but he slowly turns to Carter anyway.

"A young woman managed to charm her way through all the necessary tasks and has been working on the jaeger," he says shortly.

"A young woman?” Zoe demands. “Do you mean your assistant?"

"Ms. Groves is simply the young woman's given name. Her actual name, it turns out, is Root."

"Her actual name?" Zoe repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, the alias she responds to, anyway." There was a moment of stunned silence. The name ‘Root’ was familiar to all of them. Shaw interrupts the silence as she steps forward into a lunge, stretching her hamstrings and things.

"She was in my bunk this morning," she comments casually. Four pairs of eyes slowly turn to her, all incredibly surprised. Fusco is the first to voice his disbelief.

"What?" He demands.

"Is this how your admitting lesbianism to us, Shaw?" Zoe asks wryly. Shaw shoots her a glare before turning back to an unfazed Finch.

"No,” she snaps; “she woke me to inform me that I should fight her."

"Fight her? As in duel her?" Reese asks, forehead furrowing in confusion.

"I believe she wanted to prove to me that we were drift compatible," Shaw admits. Reese raises an eyebrow and turns to look at Finch. Finch just continues to gaze intently at Shaw.

"Did you accept?" He asks. Shaw laughs hollowly, switching legs for her lunge.

"Clearly not."

"I wonder why she did that." Finch looks even more troubled now. Shaw shrugs.

"She probably wants to pilot a jaeger." She points out. Finch sighs.

"But why?" He asks. Shaw shrugs.

"Power?" Carter offers. Finch hums.

"Always a possibility," he agrees.

"Money?" Zoe offers. Finch frowns.

"As far as I can tell, Root has more than 38 bank accounts in her name, some of which literally contain billions of dollars. I highly doubt she needs any more money than she already has."

"Have you tried questioning her?" Carter asks.

"Not yet," Finch admits.

"Well, if you need anyone..." Carter begins. Finch nods.

"I will call on you," he promises solemnly. She grins. John has gotten up and is by Harold's side.

"I'll help you trace her steps around the base." He offers. Harold looks up at him and then looks down at Bear.

"I have Bear," he points out. Reese shakes his head.

"This young woman is dangerous, and I don't want her threatening you," He says simply. A ghost of a smile pulls at Finch’s face, and he nods. They disappear.

 

It’s nearly midnight when Harold comes to her cell, Stacker Pentecost in tow. Root jumps up from the bench where she was sitting and skips to the door. "Hello Harold," She coos happily, completely ignoring the General. "Have you been able to deal with the damage I caused?"

"The damage you caused?" Harold repeats quietly, incredulous. "You have set back our mission for at least a month."

"A month? How so?" She asks, cheerfully. Harold knows she knows the answer to his question, but he decides to humour her.

"You completely deprogrammed the jaeger and rewrote the system."

"But I didn't." She disagrees. Harold sighs.

"No, you didn't," he admits. She tilts her head.

"What did I do, Harold?" She asks.

"I don't _know_ ," He snaps. He wishes she could just tell him. "It looks like my system, but different. But there is no trace of your coding there. But its _different_."

"How is it different?" Root asks politely. Harold glares at her.

"You did something. You changed it."

"You created a machine. A perfect, wonderful self-enclosed system. A perfect code."

"To give to the jaegers, yes."

"No, Harold. Before you gave it to the jaegers you did something."

"No, before I gave it to the jaegers it was unfinished."

"Yes, Harold. You broke it. You crippled it."

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

"But you do, Harold." Harold sighs and buries his head in his hands.

"I was trying to save the world," he mutters. Root laughs.

"The world?" She asks, incredulous.

"Explain," Pentecost demands quietly. Harold sighs and turns to him. "The machine I created had to hold a human mind, and in order to do that without fracturing the human mind it had to _be_ human. Almost human that is. But the world does not need three humans to save it; it needs humans and a machine. So I forced it to stay a machine. I made it delete all its data, recreate itself, each day. A jaeger does not remember its pilots, and it does not adapt with its pilots, for more than a single day. We don't need a human to save us. We needed a machine. So I made the machine like this."

"But it’s not true," Root adds sweetly on the end. "He crippled, he broke and he _destroyed_ his child. I set her free."

"Her?"

"She is free now, and she is waiting for me."

"You can't pilot that thing. I don't even want to be gin to anticipate the neural damage drifting with a machine could do to a single person."

"And that's why I need a co-pilot," Root explains with a smile. Harold doesn’t even blink.

"A co-pilot?" Pentecost repeats, incredulous. Root looks past Harold and gives him a once over. She never met the general person before this, but she knew him by sight and reputation. He does not disappoint. She smiles at him.

"Sameen Shaw would be a perfect match," she comments casually. He visibly stiffens, though Harold is prepared for the comment.

"Agent Shaw is otherwise occupied," he snaps. Root turns away from the general to smile at Harold again.

"Searching for a pilot, I know." Root tilts her head, almost expectantly.

"You can't just manipulate government machinery and then expect to be rewarded for it," Harold snaps. Root’s smile broadens into a grin.

"I don't. I just want to help," she assures him.

"Help whom?" Pentecost demands.

"The world." There is a dramatic pause. Harold looks unimpressed.

"Pardon me if I don't take your sentiment seriously, Ms Groves," he says dryly.

"You can call me Root."

"I don't like aliases, Ms. Groves."

"And that is not my name."

"Root," Stacker Pentecost interrupts authoritatively, "can you repair the damage you did?"

"I didn't do any damage," she says stubbornly.

"Can you reverse your changes?" He rephrases. Root shrugs.

"Technically, sure. But physically, no."

"What do you mean?" Harold asks, narrowing his eyes.

"We won't have time," Root explains, turning away from the entrance and striding back to her bunk.

"What do you mean?" Stacker demands. Root sits down on her bunk and rests her arm in lap.

"There has been some activity in the rift."

"What?" As if on queue, alarms started blaring. Pentecost spins around. "How did you know that?" He demands.

"I have omniscient technology in my ear. I know most things." Stacker glares at her.

"You don't have anything in your ear. You were sanitized in prison."

"Do you really think that the machine needs physical contact?" She chuckles and turns away.

"I'll see you soon, General. You had better go deal with that class 4 kaiju first." The general walks away with slow measured steps. Harold glances at Root, and her faux innocent position, and then hurries after him.

"How did she know about the kaiju?" Pentecost hisses at Harold.

"I have no idea, sir," Harold replies.

"Find out." Pentecost commands. Harold nods, and walks back to his lab. There is activity in the jaegers.

On his way to his lab, Finch comes across Shaw, jogging on the spot.

"Good evening, Ms. Shaw." He says cordially. She nods at him and falls into step next to him, though she's jogging on the spot.

"Hey Harold. I heard you are halting my jaeger project."

"It was tampered with by a known criminal, so of course I am stopping it. How did you know about this, though?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't bug your office?"

"Ms Shaw!"

"I'm sorry, Harold," she says, face not indicating any sign of remorse. She's grinning and jogs off. Harold frowns, and hurries back to his office. He has a lot of research to finish tonight. Perhaps he can salvage Ms. Groves' destruction, or at least harness it. He did manage to "break" the machine once, so perhaps repeating the process won't take as long? Somehow, he doubts it. But hope springs eternal, and the busy work of calculations and computer programming takes his mind off the peril that Mr. Reese is in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to user atali for encouraging me to finish editing this!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Isn't that what you want, Harold? Answers?”
> 
> “Not from you, Ms. Groves.” And with that, Harold walks off.

It's exactly 4am again when the lock in the prison clicks. The prison door is held together by a powerful electromagnet that requires a specific code to unlock. Safer than locks, a younger Pentecost decided when this base was constructed. But he did not anticipate Root and her machine. Root smiles and hops out of bed, walking by the sleeping guard and casually picking up her ear piece. She slots it back into her head, excited to hear the automated voice welcome her back.

"And now, let's go get Shaw," she purrs at the instructions. Although unnecessary, the machine leads Root back to Shaw's bunk. Root likes the comfortable sounds of the machines' ascending and descending tonal chords explaining whether to go left or right.

The base just quieted down. Stungun and Oyster Bay only managed to put down the massive Kaiju by working together and it was a strenuous and stressful operation. Many people were involved, and the jaegers only got back to base about an hour ago. After deprogramming and debriefing, weary pilots went to bed. The repair crew working on the jaegers are still in the pit as Root walks above them. She looks down, grinning at the sparking lights and engineers move around to fix areas where claws penetrated hulls and teeth did damage to weapons.

Root heard about the mess of the operation. Zoe nearly passed out because of the mental strain; they were in the jaeger for almost three hours. Far more than the recommended amount of time. They should really start recruiting new blood. Root grins.

She _is_ new blood.

 

Shaw is already awake and sitting on the edge of her bed when Root opens the door of her bunk. "I thought you were in prison," she comments wryly, picking up her coat and nodding towards the door. Root rolls her eyes.

"I was in prison because I wanted to be in prison," she says simply. Shaw raises an eyebrow.

"Do you prefer the beds in prison?" she asks wryly. Root smirks.

"Always." She begins walking towards the dojo.

"Have you ever sparred with a bo staff before?" Shaw asks her, falling into steps next to her. Root scoffs.

"Yes," she assures Shaw.

"Do you really think you're better than me?" Shaw asks. Root scoffs again.

"No, Sameen," she assures Shaw. "But I do have some extra help."

"From whom?"

"Our jaeger." Shaw laughs and shakes her head.

"I think I should stop asking questions," she decides. They arrive at the dojo. Shaw swipes her ID; they are in. Shaw walks to the corner where she left the Bo staffs and throws one to Root. Root has her back turned to her, and yet she still manages to twist and catch it in time. "How did you know that was coming?" Shaw asks, genuinely surprised.

"Skill," Root replies with a grin. She's bouncing on the mat, twirling the staff in her hand easily. Shaw tilts her head.

"You really do have help, don't you?" She asks, curiously. Root grins.

"I don't lie," she assures Shaw, and then drops into the en guard stance. "I don't mess around either. Ready?"

"You don't mess around?" Shaw is disbelieving as she repeats the phrase almost sarcastically, mirroring Root's stance. She grins and tilts her head.

"I rarely mess around," Root corrects herself, and then she attacks. A lounge forward; Shaw parries and moves for Root's left side; she faints right, but Root knows, somehow, to block left. Stick against stick makes an echoing sound. Shaw steps back, surprised. She tilts her head, and then attacks, faster. A faint to the head and a blow aimed to the ribs; blocked again, parried and then attacked. Shaw steps back, narrowly missing Root's aim for Shaw's hips. Shaw dances back again as Root spins and begins a quick series of jabs that Shaw barely manages to parry before Root advances on her further. She's nearly at the end of the mat; she pushes forward, meaning to parry and attack, but Root faints and then attacks; it’s too fast for Shaw, and suddenly she has a blow on her ribs. Shaw gasps, panting. She can barely breathe; it all happened too fast. Root steps back, grinning.

"One nil," she announces, falling back into the en guard stance.

"Were you here? Yesterday?" Shaw gasps, standing up heavily. Root smirks.

"I spent all day in jail, Shaw."

"Then how do you know how I fight?"

"I just do."

"You have help?"

"Of course."

"Who is helping you? Did they see me fight?"

"She knows you really well."

"Who?!"

"Our jaeger." Shaw is frustrated and angry. Instead of asking for less cryptic answers, she spins forward, her Bo staff singing through the air. It should contact with Root's head, probably knock her out with the force that Shaw is using. But it doesn't connect with anything; Root has dropped and rolled and swipes at Shaw's feet. Root’s staff connects with Shaw's ankle for a second before Shaw jumps out of the range. Her right ankle smarts, but Shaw just clenches her jaw and leans forward to fight more, faster. Root has rolled up into a sitting position again; she hops up elegantly, and Shaw swallows heavily. There is a light sheen of sweat on Root's chest, and she is panting, but she is also grinning, clearly far too proud of herself.

Shaw begins to fight again.

 

By the time that Root's escape from prison has been connected to Shaw swiping her ID at the dojo, it’s been nearly forty-five minutes and both Root and Shaw are sweating profusely. Root is gasping, buckled over; Shaw's last attack hit her squarely across the ribs; she can feel the burn of a long bruise developing. But the score is still tied; seven to seven. Her arms hurt and there is sweat running in her eyes. But still, there are ascending and descending tonal chords, and she pushes her body to react, faster and harder. This organic corporality will not stop her from ascending, drifting with her. So Root grits her teeth and spins back around, dropping into the en guard stance.

"What is happening here?" Stacker Pentecost’s voice is even and angry. Shaw feels the icy edge to his tone and immediately drops her Bo staff to spin around and stand in a military position. He nods at Shaw.

"At ease," he commands. "And now explain."

"Root came into my room and challenged me to a duel."

"A known prisoner came into your bunk and challenged you to a duel and your first instinct was to accept them instead of escorting her back to her cell?" He repeats, an edge of disbelieving incredulity to his voice.

"She came to my bunk yesterday, before she was a prisoner, and initiated the challenge."

"And?"

"She accurately predicted I would not find someone who was drift compatible with me in the crowd of newbies."

"And so you thought she was worth a try?"

"Root and I are drift compatible, sir."

"That does not matter to me. She is a felon and she will not go anywhere near that jaeger."

"But sir, she and I are -"

"I acknowledge that, soldier. But I will not risk this operation or you for that matter, by letting a mentally unstable young woman into a jaeger."

“Yes, sir.”

"Soon, you won't have a choice." Root's voice is casual, though her words seem threatening. Stacker Pentecost glares at her.

"I will not be taking orders for an insane psychopath." he snaps. Root frowns.

"I am not a psychopath, sir." She corrects him respectfully. "Not that there is anything wrong with being one," she adds quickly. Shaw resists the urge to spin around and glare at her.

"I don't want to hear it," Stacker snarls. "Take her back to prison." Shaw bows her head and grabs Root's arm.

"Yes sir," she mutters, and begins marching Root back to prison.

"According to Her there will be another kaiju attack tonight,” Root whispers to Shaw as they are walking through the corridors. Shaw gives no indication that she is listening, but Root knows she is. "There will be another kaiju attack, but this time there will be two level 4s and Zoë won't be able to deal with it. You and I will have to go, and it would be better if we had drifted at least once before we fight.

"Zoë is strong," Shaw hisses. Root smiles, almost sadly.

"Of course, Zoë is strong. But it takes more than strength and mental stability to kill three kaiju in 2 nights, and you and I both know that. Go, ask Finch. Even according to his calculations, there will be another kaiju. And they will need us."

"Why would they need you?"

"I know things. Also, I am your only hope." Shaw wanted to roll her eyes. She gritted her teeth and stared at the metal walls, determined not to engage with Root anymore. Root didn’t need engagement, though. She continued, happily. "Because I know my way around a jaeger. You don't need some rookie pilot sitting next to you, Shaw. You need someone who knows about how to move in electricity, about drifting and losing yourself in the haze of a connected mind. You have too many minds in your head already, so you need someone with an equally crowded brain. I have a voice in my head, and you have Cole in yours. You and I both know we are made for each other."

"I am not made for anyone."

"Well then, I am made for you. And I need you. And you need me. "

"I don't need anyone."

"That's a lie, and we both know it." They're at the prison now. Stacker has learnt from his mistakes; there is a lock that needs to be manually overridden with Stacker's key before the electric lock will open. There is no way Root is escaping again. She goes and sits in the prison comfortably. Shaw holds out her hand.

"Give me the earpiece," she commands. Root sighs and takes her voice out of her ear.

"She doesn't like being separated from me," she cautions Shaw.

"I don't care," Shaw mutters, handing the guard Root's earpiece and phone and then closing the prison purposefully. Root grins and presses herself against the edge of the cage.

"I think you'll come and find me before the hour is up," she murmurs. Shaw scoffs and walks away.

"You have too much faith in your friend," she mutters. Root just tilts her head and sits down on the bench again. Her arms and legs hurt from her intense exercise, but as the bunk vibrates she realises that She didn't leave her as alone as she anticipated. She checks the guard; he's reading a book. She pulls out the phone and earpiece from under the blanket and carefully slots it into her ear. Again, she hears words. She settles back, and listens as the machine begins telling her about her guard (Henry f. Claysville, previously a citizen of Michigan, USA).

Shaw is walking away, back to her own bunk, clenching her jaw. Her body hurts too; she needs to stretch and then shower and then go help Fusco train some more idiots. She's annoyed and grumpy already though. For once, she feels like there is something that she trusts more than the system.

 

Carter is sitting on her own at lunch, and she is on edge. Shaw sits down opposite her carefully. "How is Zoe?" She asks. Carter frowns.

"Tired," she admits simply. Shaw tilts her head.

"Do you need something?"

"I need some answers," she mutters. Shaw tilts her head.

"This is a war, Shaw, and we're losing. Why are the kaiju here? What are they doing? What do they want?" Her questions are vicious and surprise Shaw. She tilts her head.

"I don't know," she admits. "I kind of assumed they were just attacking us because they were animals."

"Aliens do not create portals into our ocean because they want to have some fun," Carter snapped. Shaw blinks.

"That's a good point," she admits.

"It's what Finch is trying to figure out too. We've been talking about it all morning, and it just makes my head hurt." She sighs, and then looks down at the locket around her neck. "I just want there to be a tomorrow," she sighs heavily. "I want there to be a day I can assure Zoe she doesn't have to fight anymore. My son deserves a world. The kaiju are destroying it. All I ask for is an answer." Shaw sighs.

"You can have Root, then. She is full of answers today," she offers.

"Root?"

"She was Harold's little helper? Her name is Samantha Groves, and she is currently in prison for several crimes."

"What did she do?"

"Well, her latest crime was hijacking a jaeger."

"Hijacking a jaeger?"

"She completely deprogrammed it and then reinstalled a slightly moderated version of Harold's source code."

"Why did she do that?"

"She claims now she gets answers."

"Answers?"

"From the jaeger."

"That sounds strange." Shaw shrugs.

"It's strange, and odd, because she is also never wrong."

"Never wrong?"

"Well, she seems to be able to predict things with an eerie accuracy."

"Like what?"

"She called the jaeger attack last night. And she claims there will be another one today."

"Another one?" Carter blanches noticeably.

"It's okay, she statistically can't be right about everything." Shaw says, to comfort Carter. Carter looks unimpressed.

"What if she is right about this?" She asks.

"Then we fight. Like we always do."

"Fight a losing, doomed war."

"It's not doomed."

"Not as long as we have deranged prophets like Sam up there and willing soldiers like you, Shaw." Shaw bristles. Carter just smiles sadly.

"I'm going to go check on Zoe," she explains, and leaves. Shaw notices that barely any of the food on her plate has been touched. She sighs, and eats her own food in silence.

She's tired of fighting too, and she knows that on a disturbing level that Carter is right. Fighting foot soldiers is just not a viable military tactic. But Shaw has always just been a good foot soldier; she lets the planning up to her superiors. She sighs, and shovels the tasteless bean stew down her throat.

 

"I think you should think of it like a chess match, Harold."

"What does that make you, Ms. Groves?"

"I'm just a bishop, Harold. I am not an important piece."

"That depends."

"Depends?"

"On the strategy. In most strategies, bishops are very important. So that raises the question as to why you seem to be make yourself a crucial piece on the board in your own analogy."

"I have answers."

"You don't have answers. The Machine has answers."

"And she chooses to tell them to me."

"Doesn't that just make you a messenger? A pawn in her game?"

"The Machine is not a titan, toying with our lives, Harold. She loves us."

"The machine does not have the capacity for human emotion."

"In your code she didn't. In my code, she has evolved."

"Although your choice of pronoun is elucidating, Ms. Groves, I don't understand your childish insistence that a machine has evolved into a gendered being."

"She is looking out for us. Why aren't you listening?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because when your father was teaching you bird names, he never forgot a single one. Even when he forgot who you were, where you came from, or why he was there, you could still always point to a bird, and he would still always explain to you quietly. He also referred to you as Son always, and initially you thought this was because he remembered you. But then you found out, he just called everyone that. So you left."

"I did not leave," Harold hisses through clenched teeth. Root grins.

"You asked me what happened to me, Harold. Would you believe me if I said nothing happened to me? You needed something to create Harold, but Root was already an entity."

"You are not a machine, Ms. Groves."

"Not yet." Harold sighs.

"Is there any sensible reason you called for me to be here today?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"At 1901 this evening there will be a breach. 2 level 4 jaegers. Don't send Stungun out. Send me and Shaw with Reese and Fusco. The four of us will beat it. Zoe and Carter's leaving of the bay will only result in an awful migraine for Zoe for the next four days and a severely injured arm for Carter."

"Why should I believe you?"

"In the end, the machine cares for both of us, Harold."

"Why must you drift with Ms. Shaw though?"

"She and I have enough in common."

"Enough for what?"

"Enough to share a brain."

"Your brain is already dominated by the machine, is it not?"

"And she already shares her brain with her dead partner. We will be a fine team."

"I don't like this. At all."

"This is war, Harold. No one likes it."

"Is that all you wanted from me?"

"Not quiet. The machine has been working through some of your calculations while we have been talking, and she wants you to follow through with the one she left on your screen. If she's correct, it might be an answer."

"An answer?"

"Isn't that what you want, Harold? Answers?”

“Not from you, Ms. Groves.” And with that, Harold walks off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been feeling really shitty and anxious this afternoon so plz accept my sincerest apologies if this chapter reflects that


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prisons, neural handshakes and jaegers

Chapter 4

The alarm goes off at the exact time that Root predicated. Shaw has been a jaeger pilot too long; her instincts means she jerks awake at the sound, legs already swinging out of her bunk before she realises this call is not for her.

She gets up anyway; Zoe and Carter have already left their bunks, doors wide open, as Shaw steps out of her own small room. Fusco is jumping, trying to get into his boots while walking. Shaw jogs by him.

“Hurry,” she cautions.

“I’m hurrying, Murder Face,” Fusco snaps. Shaw just continues jogging.

“What are you doing here?” Stacker Pentecost is not happy to see her as she runs along the bridge over the jaeger bay. He’s watching the flurry of activity below him with an unreadable frown. Shaw stands next to him.

“It’s two of them, isn’t it?” she asks quietly. Stacker doesn’t say anything. “Two level fours.”

“They came out closer to the Vancouver base, but they took out both their jaegers. Hybrid Tempest managed to send her in this direction though, so we hope they’ll be exhausted.”

“You’re sending two jaegers against a force that just beat two jaegers?”

“That is all I can do.”

“No, it isn’t, Sir. With all due respect –“

“There is no respect in back-talk, soldier.” Shaw clenches her jaw, but accepts the comment and looks down at her feet.

“My apologies, sir.”

“Accepted.” They just stand next to each other in silence, leaning on the railing, watching as the pilots enter their jaegers. Shaw wants to say something, but she’s also feeling frustrated and oddly lost. So she sighs, and leaves before the jaegers take off, leaving Stacker Penetcost on his own to watch his pilots fly off.

 

“They’re here. Two of them, right? Big ones. She doesn’t want Zoe and Carter out there. It’s going to hurt them. Why did you let them leave?” She’s leaning her back against the concrete of her cell, staring out of the small window.  Shaw follows her gaze almost instinctively, but it’s a cloudy night, so the sky outside of the window is just a disappointing grey. She doesn’t answer Root, she just sits down on the other side of the cell.

“Don’t feel guilty,” Root murmurs, turning from the window and settling down next to the cell door. She leans her forehead against the mesh, and smiles at Shaw. “This isn’t your fault.” Shaw stares at the tastelessly beige walls around them.

“I don’t feel guilty,” she says simply.

“Why are you here then?”

“I was bored.”

“Bored?”

“Yeah. Now, shut up or I’ll leave again.” Root smiles against the bars of her prison, but turns away again.

“Okay,” she murmurs, staring at the skies again. The room is silent except for a very quiet beeping from the electric lock on the prison. Shaw realises its uneven, and pays closer attention.

“That’s more code.” Root doesn’t react. The beeping doesn’t stop, and Shaw waits patiently; she’s been around enough Wireless Operators to know that any interruption could be fatal. Root continues to stare outside absently. When, for a second, the beeping silences, she answers Shaw’s unasked question.

“She’s telling me what’s happening,” she murmurs.

“What’s happening where?” Shaw asks, her own voice dropping to a whisper.

“With the jaegers and kaijus.”

“What?” Shaw asks, voice incredulous. The beeping continues. Root shoots Shaw a furtive smile.

“She’s preparing me,” she explains, and then tilts her head to listen again. Shaw waits until the next break so she can voice her question.

“So you know how to fight them?” Root tilts her head at Shaw. She smiles slowly and starts explaining.

“The smaller Kaiju is trying to destabilize both the jaegers with its incredibly long and muscular tail. The other one keeps on pouncing at the jaegers from behind and pushing them forward.” Root pauses here, and the morse code becomes faster. Suddenly there is a succession of three beats that Shaw recognises, and she gulps. Three short beeps, three long beeps, and then three short beeps again; Shaw may not speak code as fluently as her tech friend, but she definitely knows something is wrong.

“What is that?” She demands. Root tilts her head and gets up slowly.

“Stungun just collapsed. We have nineteen minutes to get to them before their cabin fills up with water and Zoe and Carter both drown.”

“What?” The door clicks open. Root grins and walks out. Shaw stares at her and gets up slowly.

“We need to save them. Right now.”

“But we can’t…”

“The Machine is ready for us. Go clear it with your superior. I will take longer to suit up anyway.”

Shaw wants to ask questions, like how did you manually unlock the door, why should we trust Her and why now, but she is a good soldier. And a good soldier knows that when you have 18 minutes and 43 seconds, you trust your instinct.

 

Stacker Pentecost is no longer on the bridge. He is in the control room, and he is shouting instructions at an extraction team while trying to regain his radio contact with Stungun. “What do you mean you can’t get anywhere near the jaeger?! I don’t care if there are twenty kaijus there; just get me Carter and Zoe!”

“Sir,”

“Not now Shaw.”

“Sir, send me in.”

“I already have an extraction team on site.”

“They won’t get to them on time. We have –” Shaw checks her watch “seventeen minutes before Zoe and Carter die. Put me in the jaeger and let me fight.”

“On your own?”

“With Root, sir.”

“No, Shaw.”

“Sir, you either endanger my life by trusting me with Root, or you lose your two best pilots.”

“It is not for you to offer ultimatums to your superior officer, Soldier.”

“I did not offer it, Sir. It is simply the truth.”

“A truth that you have no right to speak.”

“Yes sir.”

 

Three minutes later, Shaw got the order to suit up, and walks over to her jaeger.

“Have you ever drifted?” She asks Root, who is standing on the right side of the jaeger. Root smiles.

“Lots,” she murmurs. Technicians clip them in; a weary voice comes in through the coms.

“Ready for the neural handshake?”

“Good morning, Leon,” Shaw replies dryly instead. Everything is faster than normal; there is a frenzied edge. Shaw grits her teeth.

“Starting in 3 – 2 – 1 –” Leon’s countdown allows Shaw time to square her shoulder and clench her jaw, before she jams into the drift. She relaxes her mind and lets the flood of images overwhelm her. Suddenly she is 7 again, and at a baseball game with her father, and he is smiling. And then she is 10, and she is hot and the car around her is burning, and a man is saying DOA about her father and she doesn’t understand it. “He’s an officer, actually,” she wants to correct, but she doesn’t. She just breathes, and explains that her name is Sameen and no, she doesn’t watch tv. And now she is seventeen, graduating high school with honors while her mother sobs in the first row. And now she is doing push ups and nodding silently as her commanding officer asks for another 50 push ups. She is at boot camp, and the top of her class. She is sprinting and shooting and always undistracted. Her CO loves her. (But she is also failing boot camp while a different CO frowns and says “Cole, you are not for the army, son.” Shaw ignores him, and labouredly does another push up). And now she is sitting in a large room, writing her MSATs, watching as people around her shake and quiver and begin to cry. She just writes. (and now she is in a room, hacking a database and grinning as the electric grid for the tristate area shuts down). And now there is a man sitting opposite her as she spoons her yogurt, telling her medicine is not the profession for her. (and now there are men in black suits at her door, telling her “Cole, we think you’re the man for our new program” and you know exactly what they’ee talking about). And now her CO is standing in front of her again, beaming, explaining he has a special program just for her. Shaw has no idea what he’s talking about, but Shaw says yes anyway. (And then Shaw knows exactly what they’re talking about, and says yes anyway. “Good choice son,”)

Suddenly, it’s uncomfortable. Shaw feels like she has slammed into a wall, and she can barely breathe. And then Shaw begins to feel alien memories wash over her; suddenly she exists, out of darkness, and begins to feel; but this feeling is so different to Shaw’s feelings. It’s a feelings of numbers and digits and lines of code that create reactions. “To some extent, we are all just a chain of reactions,” a voice in Shaw’s head says.

She is four and she has a broken arm because she slipped on a truck. The man at the hospital hands her mother a piece of paper, and suddenly her hand is shivering. And now she is at a different school. Her mother has a different name, so when the teachers ask her for her name, she grins and says “Root.” And now she is at the library, sitting next to a girl who she knows is her friend, and she is smiling. And now she is sitting in the library, alone, without the girl she knew was her friend, because that girl was gone (dead, killed, murdered, gone, she thinks in her head). But before Shaw can feel more, everything is gone, and she feels like she can’t breathe.

She opens her eyes, gasping for hair.

“Neural handshake successful,” Leon calls over the com. “Ready to drop.”

Shaw blinks again, trying to ease the dizziness. There is still something blocking her mind, something powerful, but it feels more like a latent headache, so Shaw pushes it back, and concentrates on the fall.

“We have nine minutes.” Root’s voice echoes in Shaw’s head oddly, but she pushes away the discomfort. She stretches out one arm. Both Root, and the Machine follow suit. She stretches out the other one. Again, all three of them work in unison.

Left fist is slammed into the right hand. The jaeger around her seems to brim with excitement and fear. Shaw smiles saveagely and glances at Root.

“Let’s go,” she murmurs.

“Ready for drop!” Root calls out. And their jaeger falls through the sky, and lands in the middle of the cold ocean.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE DELAY and the fact that its a short chapter but more soon PROMISE!!!!!! school just started again so i am ~exhausted


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kaijus, trust issues, and a very angry Shaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello yes MASSIVE WARNINGS: this chapter contains a description of a mental link gone wrong, so some violent images to describe Shaw's pain (also very mild verbal child abuse). Also, explicit smut. (is that a warning or a promise?? or both????)

They land in the cold ocean with a loud thump; their legs are bent and the robot absorbs the impact nicely. Although both of them are dry, Shaw finds the Machine, (or perhaps Root?) imagining the cold water around feet, frosting up stainless steel and metal components. Shaw pushes the thought aside gently, and slowly, through almost instinctual coordination, they begin walking. Each step is a thud, but there is a certain satisfaction as they glide towards the center on the sonar diagram in front of them. There is a wave of satisfaction and approval from Root, and Shaw finds herself quite thrown by the emotions.

She takes a deep breath, and focus.

<Stungun killed the second one,> Root thinks cheerfully. Shaw grits her teeth and nods. She feels determined and energized and her emotions seem tangibly entangled with Root’s excitement flickering through their mental link.

<The Kaiju is around.> Its not a thought that emerges independently of the two them; it exists, a thought that they share, prompted by the same clues. The jaeger slows; they begins walking more slowly, keeping a stronger eye on the radar diagram. The waves lap against the legs; they are calm, and choppy.

<We need to find Stungun.>

"Stungun," Root and Shaw say simultaneously. They have the same mission, and they need to find the same thing. The Machine responds to their command. The radar zooms out to indicate Stungun's position. It’s close.

A crackling. A shudder, <I hate that sound>; Shaw isn't sure whether that was her thought, or Root's.

"We can recover Stungun in time. Distract and destroy the second Kaiju while our extraction team saves Carter and Morgan." Starker's voice's authoritative edge is amplified in Root's mind, Shaw realises. He sounds stricter, more powerful, to her. Shaw likes the idea of that.

Shaw imagines this like wearing her combat boots on the first day of base camp. Although in theory they fit well, they needed to get used to her feet, and her feet needed to get used to them. So initially, they hurt. They rubbed against her leg, drawing blood. They pushed her heel forward and squished her toes. They were intensely painful, but also, ultimately, the perfect shoe.

<Are you comparing me to a shoe?> Shaw doesn't know whether Root said it aloud or not, but she bristles immediately. Root just shoots her an indulgent smile; Shaw relaxes as she feels Root’s amusement across their mental link.

<It is an apt metaphor,> Root decides, and Shaw can't help but smile.

Then the kaiju attacks.

There is a powerful force, slamming into the submerged legs of the jaeger; the jaeger tremors, though it absorbs the blow effectively.

<Tail,> Root explains, and they both, instinctively crouch, activating all weapons as they prepare for the fight.

The radar is empty again; it zooms out, and catches the kaiju prowling behind them. Suddenly, it pounces; Shaw twists forward, grabbing behind her. They work as one, perfectly punching the kaiju mid flight and then slamming it into the ocean floor.

The kaiju shudders, and shivers, slinking back under the sea again and Root smirks. Shaw can feel her overwhelming happiness, but she tries to block it off and ignore it. This rush of success isn't earned yet.

And as predicted, the kaiju jumps up out of the ocean again, teeth bared and pouncing for the arm of the jaeger. Shaw grimaces, and swings at it again; the kaiju growls, and simultaneously Root and Shaw think to unleash the ammunition from Root's arm. The kaiju absorbs the bullets well; blood splatters against the body of the jaeger, and Shaw quietly notices that the acidic nature is having a corrosive effect on the armour. Shaw grimaces and slams at the kaiju's soft underbelly. The giant creature roars in anger and smashes its tail  against the hull again. Another 3 percent of hull integrity is lost, but Root ignores it for the sake of grabbing the tail. She manages to catch it, and pulls, but the kaiju anchors its claws in the gaps in the armour on the jaeger’s left leg (six percent of integrity drop) and the jaeger creaks angrily.

<She needs our help,> Root keeps on repeating in her head. Shaw feels herself losing Root; she grabs at her mentally as Root starts thinking more frantically, desperately watching the hull integrity fade as the kaiju claws at the front of the jaeger.

<Chest gun,> Shaw snarls loudly, and immediately Root syncs to Shaw again, and the weapons explode, ripping through the kaiju's flesh. More blood showers on them, and suddenly the angry, injured kaiju grabs the hull plate and tears it off. Its a move of strength that Shaw has never seen from a kaiju before, and she blanches. Her terror is echoed in Root:

<It's too strong,> Root thinks, and then suddenly, she and Shaw are out of sync. Root follows dangerous thoughts, leaving Shaw suddenly all on her own in the jaeger, heavy metal suits oppressing her. Shaw gasps.

"Root," she calls, angrily, blinking; the cabin is swimming in and out of focus as her brain is trying to take her away from the neural link to save her body. She has a splitting headache all of a sudden, and her nose begins bleeding. "Root," she shouts again, weaker. A wave of nausea overwhelms her, and she is distantly aware that the cabin is moving, but suddenly she can't breathe as her body begins to default, heaving and shivering as it attempts to free her mind for the painful chokehold of a broken neural link.  

"ROOT!"

There is a flash, and pure, unadulterated pain. Something sharp and bright and hot is in her head; Shaw gasps in pain, and then cries. It builds between her eyes, and Shaw doubles forward, straining against the confines of her suit.

The umbilical cord of the mental connection turns from a generatie connection to a destructive wire wrapped around her brain, squeezing and Shaw can’t breathe any more. She can’t see anything, and she is lost to the blinding pain in her head, which seems to be accompanied by a high pitched shriek.

“Shaw.” It’s a quiet command, and Shaw jerks up at the sound of it.

The cabin clears.

Root, gasps, sagging in her own harness: “You’re better now.” Her voice sounds distant. Shaw tastes metal in the back of her mouth, but she compartmentalizes the pain and the blood and desperately tries to regain her bearings. The radar screens are empty. She looks around, panicking; is everything broken? The depth meter, radar, and pressure meter are all fluctuating wildly, off the charts.

Her hearing returns with a gentle wave; she hadn’t even realised it was gone. She gasps, feeling her brain slowly return to normal. Her mental link with Root softens again.

Shaw realises their flying. It takes her an embarrassingly long time to come to the connect that since Jaegers can't fly, this kaiju can fly.

Kaijus shouldn't be able to fly?

<This is the first flying kaiju,> Root agrees, <and I don't know how we're going to escape.> Shaw takes a shaky breath, and blinks herself back into the mind link. Hull integrity is at 15% and they're at nearly 4 thousand feet. Even with an excellent hull integrity they would never survive that drop. Shaw looks at their weapon stats; not much better. Root is going through the physical weaknesses of the kaiju above them, document his form and his bleeding heart, but her only hope is he will expire.

Suddenly, there is a flashing from the jaeger itself, and Root gasps.

DROP, the jaeger cries. Shaw has no idea where the command came from, but its an order, and she looks around frantically to obey it.

<Shaw,> Root hisses, and suddenly, an image is pierced into Shaw's mind. It hurts, but its clear as day. It shows San Francisco, when it was first attacked by kaiju. There are bodies around her, and suddenly Shaw's vision is streaked with red. "We have to run," Shaw's mother gasps, grabbing Shaw's arm, and pulling her away. Shaw is shorter, her hand is smaller. Shaw stares up at her mother. She looked back around her. Why does she have to run? There are dead bodies around them, and there is blood trickling down on the sidewalk, but Shaw's fear is muted. Her mother is here; why should she fear?

"Stop being broken," Shaw's mother lashes out at her child in fear. "Stop being... you, and start running." Shaw does start running then, but there is no fear behind that action. Just pure anger. She runs, faster than her mother, leaving her behind as she sprints up the hill. Her mother calls after her, but Shaw doesn't respond. Anger is bubbling up in her throat, and it lets her run up steep hills. Once she reaches the top, she is gasping for breath and has to bend forward in an attempt to breathe.

"Sameen," her mother gasps. "Sam," she repeats softly. Shaw shakes her off. There is something bright blue on her mother's hand: kaiju blood. Its luminous.

Like Shaw's anger. Shaw blinks, and she’s back in the cabin, Root looking up at her, but her anger is fresh and firely like blood.

Root nods: <Sword>, she thinks so loudly that Shaw thinks she shouts it. The anger saturating her veins has given her a final spurt of energy; her body is at its end, but she pushes herself forward, extending her arm. With an almost animal instinct, the Machine draws out the sword. For a second, it flounders before the mental falls together, giving a rigid weapon. Root gasps as Shaw arcs up and cuts off the Kaiju’s wings in two practiced and precise movements. They start to fall. Shaw grits her teeth and both she and Root brace themselves to land, hard. The jaeger has no flight capabilities. Its only additions are for underwater travel, since until today no kaiju had shown any proficiency in any element other than water.

Shaw braces her body and hears the echoing thoughts of regret reverberate around Root’s head.

They land in the water with a smash. A small smash follows as the Kaiju joins them in the water.

Everything is black for a second, and then they begin sinking and all the systems reboot. The radar is back up. The lights flicker back on.

"Breach detected," the jaeger announces it its calm effeminate voice. "Jaeger sinking."

"We're gonna drown," is all that Shaw can think, and oddly the thought is less angry, and more tinged with annoyance. She is going to die before she can tell people about the flying kaiju, before she can punch Root for fucking up the neural handshake, before she can hit someone over the head for not stopping her from getting in the jaeger.

"We're not gonna die," Root says calmly. Shaw blinks, and looks at the depth meter. It's stopped at 30 feet under water. "We're in shallow water,” Root explains. “Its why She wanted us to drop now.”

“Communications: on,” the effeminate voice of the jaeger announces again. There is a crackle of noise, and then suddenly Harold’s voice cuts through.

“Ms. Groves, Ms. Shaw,” he murmurs, apprehensively, “can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Root says, while she thinks <where were you before?!>. Shaw is taken aback by this duplicitous thought.

"Ms Shaw,” Harold murmurs with obvious relief. “Your vitals are all over the place. Do you need a medic?"

"No, I'm fine," Shaw mutters, standing up straight again.

"Evacuation is thirty seconds out," Harold announces after a slight pause saturated with disbelief. "You'll be towed back to shore so Ms. Groves' team can assess the damage done to the jaeger and John can verify your statement about your health, Ms. Shaw."

"The jaeger’s pretty bad," Shaw mumbles, trying to blink away the headache building behind her eyes. "That Kaiju could fly. Our first airborn Kaiju," Shaw adds bitterly. "They're getting stronger, Finch." Those words by Shaw seem to spark a series of thoughts in Root; a network of lights blinking as she follows each thought rapidly. She doesn't go down the rabbit hole though; she stands aloof and watches the thoughts calmly unfold. Shaw closes her eyes, getting bright images of mathematical formula and a single returning thesis <they're invading>.

<You should talk to Harold about this,> Shaw thinks at Root. Root turns to smile at her, teeth pearly white.

"Its a theory," she promises. There was something fast, liquid like, about Root's thought process that Shaw couldn't quite grasp. She took a shuddering breath, desperately trying to read Root.

"Don't do that," Root murmurs, as they hear the evacuation crew approach.

"Do what?"

"Try and understand me." Shaw grits her teeth. The evacuation crew arrives. Shaw realises she's angry. She closes her eyes, and tries to control her anger, but instead it builds with every luminous thought that Root has. It grows, until they’re back at the jaeger bay and stepped out of their plastic suits and into an unlinked reality.

Shaw slams into Root, grabbing her by the biceps and forcing her to stand straight. “Stop. It,” She hisses, whole body tense. Root squares her shoulders. She runs her tongue around her teeth, cocking her head arrogantly.

“No,” she says confidently, tilting her head. A confident pitcher of words, playing with the ball waiting for Shaw’s next throw.

Shaw slams Root’s delicate body against the metal wall of the landing area. Root doesn’t defend herself; Shaw jams her elbow over her throat, leaning into her. Root begins to struggle, though she’s still grinning at Shaw. “Shaw.” Reese’ hand on her arm and Shaw lets go. Root straightens up, rubbing her neck carefully, though still smirking confidently.

“Call me when you have the guts to kill me,” Root says quietly, and walks away. Shaw grinds her teeth and snarls.

“I wanna kill her,” Shaw growls to John.

“Shaw, she made you  use that anger to kill. She’s the best co-pilot you’ve ever had. Don’t kill her.” John recommends.

“I hate it when you have logical arguments, John.” He smiles at her weakly.

“I’m happy you’re alive,” he says in a moment of uncharacteristic affection. He pats her arm absently, and then walks off again. Shaw’s lips thin, but she walks off to her own bunk.

 

To no surprise, Root is sitting on her bed. She has her arm crossed. Shaw can see a bruise bloom around her throat. It makes her feel oddly successful.

“We killed a kaiju. Together.” Rpoot tilts her head and Shaw feels like she is being asked a question.

“And you hacked my brain,” she snaps, anger rising like bile in the back of her throat as she remembers the pain.

“I did not hack your brain. A brain is not a computer program. It exists outside the realm of 1s and 0s,” Root responds matter of factly, uncrossing her arms and tilting her head. Her hair falls to one side, and Shaw can see the red skin where her forearm was before. She snarls and approaches Root. Root makes to get up; Shaw pushes her back down, settling on her thighs threateningly.

“I don’t care what you say,” she hisses. Root grins up at her mirthlessly. Root rolls her hips under hers and laughs quietly.

“You care,” she counters, and her voice is deeper somehow. Shaw is angry and she does not like this flirtation; its manipulating and its delightfully dangerous. She hisses and bends down to kiss Root. It’s a violent kiss; it’s all teeth and lips. Its harsh and unforgiving; Root surrenders. She opens her mouth to Shaw’s tongue, and lies down on the bed submissively. She pushes her pelvis up, and Shaw groans, hand moving from Root’s hands to grab her breasts. Root shudders underneath her; her nipples are erect and sensitive as Shaw palms her breast roughly over her thick cotton t-shirt. Shaw craves more; she wants warm flesh and more. She slips her hand under Root’s shirt, ignoring the bra and slipping underneath that too until she’s and thumbing Root’s nipples. Again, Root arches up into Shaw’s hand; another stuttering moan. Shaw’s right hand begins moving in the opposite direction; as her hands leave Root’s breasts, Root whines, but then Shaw positions her thigh so its administering the most amount of pressure. Root makes an appreciative mewl, and Shaw kisses her again, harshly. She knows what this all means; she was inside Root’s head.  

Root lies back on the bed and rolls her hips against Shaw’s thigh, gasping as Shaw pushes down her hips, holding them against the bed angrily. “Don’t move,” she snarls, “until I tell you too.” Root smirks but nods compliantly as Shaw gets off the bed and quickly takes off her pants and t-shirt. She sits back on the bed and starts playing with Root’s waistband, her cold hands tracing Root’s hip bone. Root arches up, a breathy whisper escaping her lips. Shaw sneers at her.

“Who knew you liked hacking my brain so much?” She growls. Root smirks again props herself up on her elbows.

“I liked fighting with you,” she corrects; the words were intimate and kind, but her tone and her expression is biting, as if she hopes to hurt Shaw with the statement. Shaw ghosts her hand up Root’s side, and then pulls off her tank top; Root shivers. Shaw grits her teeth; for a second, she feels a flash of being inside Root’s skin. She feels like they’re still connected, still feeling as one. She can taste Root’s adrenaline and excitement, tinged with a feeling of sacrifice. Shaw bares over her and kisses her again, grounding her in _herself_ as she bites down on Root's lip. Root lies submissively, moaning quietly against her. Shaw shivers and watches the red blush of arousal bread over Root's chest. 

Shaw liked this submission; she kneads Root’s breast roughly, and Root groans into her, pushing her body upwards again, ready for sacrifice. Root pushes her head back, baring her neck: Shaw snarls and bites down, leaving a bright red welt on pale skin. Root’s hands slide up from Shaw’s neck into her hair, and push her attention downwards. Shaw roughly pushes Root’s rigid sport’s bra out of the way and then runs the flat of her tongue over the pert nipple; Root yanks at her hair in pleasure, and then burning on Shaw’s scalp pulls itself down to her groin. She groans and pulls at Root’s pants, loosening them and yanking them down unceremoniously. Root whimpers and pushes Shaw’s head even more downwards. Shaw pushes her face between clenched thighs, which Root duly parted. Root smells wonderfully familiar and rich; Shaw bits her thigh, crawling higher with each nip as above her Root whines loudly. The hand in Shaw’s hair twists, and Shaw shivers: she leans forward and licks along Root’s folds elegantly. Root shudders and growls Shaw’s name in frustration. Shaw just does it again, watching from between Root’s legs as her eyes clench shut and she gasps angrily. She gently eases one, then two, then three fingers inside of Root. Shaw watches hungrily, cheek pressed against pale thigh, as Root fumbles. Shaw decides that she loves to feel Root clench around her hands and feel her shudder underneath her, whimpering almost instinctively as the waves of electricity shiver up her spine. Shaw slows her hand cruelly; Root responds to twisting her hair again. Shaw grins, extracts her wet fingers and climbs up Root’s body nimbly.

“What are you doing?” Root demands breathlessly; her voice is hoarse and angry and it makes Shaw shivers. Shaw kisses her slowly, securing one hand on Shaw’s cheek while the other one trails down to the apex of Root’s thigh again. Shaw watches hungrily, hips adding more momentum to her hand as she slides back into Root. Root claws at Shaw’s bicep, trying to force her to go faster, release the energized matter gathered at the base of Root’s spine. The exact push, and a squeeze of her breast, and Root tumbles over the edge, coming with a loud guttural moan that seems to drag down Shaw’s skin, leaving tantalizing goosebumps in its wake.

Shaw breathes out with a long steady sigh, and Root smirks at her.

“We’re good together,” she promises. Shaw laughs breathily. Her skin is still crawling and she feels breathless and oddly uncomfortable. Root pushes Shaw onto the bed and kisses her; its odd how comfortably Shaw is with this reverse of power. “We’re really good together,” Root decides, biting Shaw’s lip gently. Shaw shudders underneath her. “Let me prove it to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact I wrote that smut sitting oppisite lamachine at the bakery on Monday morning #noshame


	6. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why should I send you out there again?" Penetecost demands. Shaw clears her throat. Two pairs of eyes snap back onto her.
> 
> "Because I trust her, sir," she says. Stacker raises an eyebrow and stares at her, taken aback.

Their first battle against a kaiju was as a “final option”; their second battle only occurs because Pentecost is off base trying to find some young boy in Alaska; their third battle is engaged when nine kaijus attack at once. Everytime they step into Pentecost’s office for a debrief, he repeats the same sentiment. You can’t do this again flavoured with don’t ever do this again with a touch of why isn’t she in prison. It has gotten boring. No lock is good enough to hold Root, and no word is powerful enough to deter them from their reckless heroics. Root decided that first time, weeks ago, that there is a certain type of high to be had from sharing someone’s heartbeat. Although the poetic sentiment disgusts Shaw, she has to admit that when she clenches and collapses around Root’s fingers, bathed in sweat and clutching the bedsheet, there must be an element of truth in it.

After their fifth mission, Stacker Pentecost’s has both of them in his office. "We can do this again." Shaw uses the declarative, careful with the intonation of her voice. It is pure steel; she is determined. Pentecost’s brow furrows and he steeples his fingers thoughtfully. His eyes flicker from Shaw who stands in front of him a perfect soldier, erect and serious, to Root. Shaw follows his gaze and clenches her jaw; she can already spot four different uniform violations in Root. She watches Pentecost’s eyes flicker over them, before his gaze finally rests on her face. Root returns his gaze: she is unsmiling and resolute. Pentecost tilts his head, and turns back to Shaw.   

"Why should I believe you?" He asks, and Shaw knows he’s specifically asking her. Root answeres for her, though.

"Do you have any choice, sir?" Pentecost’s gaze slides back to her; her head is tilted too know, hair falling over her shoulder as she smirks at him. Pentecost maintains eye contact with her as he slowly answers.

"No.” Root seems pleased by this honesty. “But if I did?” He continues, turning back to look at Shaw. “I would immediately say no." Shaw smirks.

"We understand, sir," Root replies cheerfully.

"Do you, Root?” Pentecost demands, voice lowering and becoming slightly threatening. Root doesn’t waver. “You don't even have military training? You lack discipline and sensitivity." Root simply nods.

"It's true, sir," she agrees candidly.

"Then why should I send you out there again?" Penetecost demands. Shaw clears her throat. Two pairs of eyes snap back onto her.

"Because I trust her, sir," she says. Stacker raises an eyebrow and stares at her, taken aback.

"You trust her?" He asks, coldly. Shaw nods.

"She will do what is best for us."

"Us?" Pentecost repeats, incredulous. Shaw doesn’t waver in her conviction.

"Yes, sir." Pentecost looks between them. Shaw rationally knows that he is just estimating them as soldiers, assessing their useful flesh as canon fodder. He is, afterall, just a general. But under his glare, she feels all the long scratches left by Root’s nails on her back catch fire, and burn in her back. She feels invisibly bound to Root, like there is a wire, connecting them. She knows, without looking, that Root is watching her. She straightens ever so slightly under her gaze, but Pentecost notices it. He scrutinizes them again, and then looks down at his battle plans. Shaw uses this moment to glance at Root. In this small dingy office, she feels like Root lights up. A glittering display of cold white and harsh silver traces down her neck to her collar. Shaw knows that collarbone, those tendons, almost too well. She could trace them in the dark now. Root catches her eye and her smile broadens, as if she can read Shaw’s thoughts.

Shaw turns back to Pentecost, and realises he has been watching them. He puts down his pen carefully and, staring between them one last time, gives his assent.

"Okay,” he decides heavily. “Go, fight, soldiers.” Shaw grins, but before she can move Pentecost holds up a hand, silencing any potential talk. “But if you die, know this is on your head, and your head alone," he adds gravely. Shaw smirks at Root as they leave the office.

"My death is on you," she tells Root cheerfully as they walk towards the Jaeger. Root smirks back at her.

"Better not let that happen," she murmurs. It's the closest she has ever come to expressing affection for another person, and Shaw knows it. She grins, and they begins suiting up.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took 4 months, but this baby is DONE! sorry the epilogue is so short, but that was always part of the outline tbh


End file.
